


Tired Bones, Warm Soul

by TheBestTinyDragon



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Bad Puns, Blob ghosts are CUTE and I will fight you, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, How many of them am I doing?, I have two essays due, Mild Language, Minor Violence, No beta we die like lonely introverts with no friends, None - Freeform, Written for Ectober but like everything else I'M LATE, the Fenton's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27518296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBestTinyDragon/pseuds/TheBestTinyDragon
Summary: Danny Fenton basically spent his life tired. He woke up tired, he "lived" tired, and he went to bed tired. Rinse and repeat.Some days though, there were things that made his day just a little bit brighter. Thankfully today was one of those days.
Relationships: None
Comments: 20
Kudos: 130





	Tired Bones, Warm Soul

Bones/Pulse

Blinking tiredly, red numbers swam in and out of focus. Danny groaned when they finally parsed themselves into something meaningful.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He mashed his face back into the pillow.

It had been two hours.

He’d gotten _two hours_ of sleep.

For the third night in a row.

A sour taste in his mouth told him he really should have brushed his teeth. Dull pain throbbed in his side, and his hand came away looking like a Christmas painting, if it was done by that weird dude who flung paint everywhere.

“God fucking– Damnit.” Peeling himself out of bed, he grabbed his clothes off the chair they had been laying on. “Ember is spending at _least_ three hours in the thermos.” She didn’t claw a good chunk out of his side, but she _did_ prevent him from getting more sleep and honestly? That was the worse crime.

The quiet tap of his feet down the stairs broke the eerie stillness of the house.

“One might even say it’s… _dead quiet_.” Danny snickered briefly before wincing.

Admittedly his first aid wasn’t the best, but it was three a.m. and he refused to wake his friends up just because he tried to catch a ghost lion like the reckless idiot he was constantly accused of being. The bandages wrapped around his chest seemed fine last night. Maybe he’d get Tucker to check up on them later, just in case. 

A twinge of guilt flared in his core. Shaking his head, he dismissed it. He knew that no matter what he did, his friends would be behind him one hundred percent.

He just needed to make sure they never got the chance to be in front of him.

The thought sent icy shockwaves of desperate refusal through his core and he could feel little dribbles of ectoplasm ooze through the gashes in his skin. He eyed the green-red droplets on the floor with distaste.

With a tired sigh, he clicked his fingers and it vaporized, joining the ambient ectoplasm that permeated the house. Tiny droplets of blood remained, but those were easy to explain away. In a house full of strange and usually untested gadgets, it was kind of expected to have accidents.

Poking through the mostly empty fridge, he made a note to nab some of his mom’s money later and go buy groceries. For now, cereal it was.

* * *

Jazz had joined him at the table with her concerned sister face. Since she had stopped trying to analyze him as a case study, they had gotten a little closer but…. Well, ghost hunting only leaves so much free time.

After a few minutes of poking around at his cereal, a loud bang sounded from the la– from the basement. The door slammed open, and his dad made his usual energetic, incredibly loud entrance.

With a steady breath, he forced himself to relax before his eyes could flash. A quick downward glance showed him that he hadn’t bled through his shirt. Yet.

While his parents may have missed his reaction, his sister didn’t. She sent another worried glance at him but said nothing.

“Morning kiddos!” A bright orange jumpsuit filled Danny’s vision. He stared down at his cereal wondering if it was possible to drown himself in the small amount of milk in the bowl. Then he started wondering if he could drown at all, which led to the usual.

Meanwhile, his father was still talking.

“I think we really made a breakthrough this time, didn’t we Mads!”

“That’s right honey, we did.” Danny’s mom hefted an innocuous-looking stick carved with weird symbols. Danny squinted at it.

 _That’s literally just a stick._ His lips twitched in an almost-smile. _I would give basically anything to see them try to hit Technus with that._ His frustration at not being able to control whatever it was would fuel Danny for weeks. _Weeks._

“We’ll be able to catch that cocky bastard this time!” His dad shook a fist. “Phantom won’t be able to get away from this bad boy. Then we can finally tear him apart molecule by molecule.”

 _Thanks, but I think I got that covered._ Between school and ghosts and running for his life in a never-ending cycle of healing and injury, he was already stretched in a million directions.

 _It’s a damn good thing ectoplasm is so durable_.

“Something wrong sweetheart?” He dropped his spoon when his mother broke into his father’s never-ending quest against all of ghost-kind.

People or not.

“Just peachy.” After a second, he continued, “Hey mom? Uh, we’re kind of out of milk. And fruit. And bread. And… pretty much everything. Do you think you could give me some cash so I could go grab groceries later?” He was already working out a schedule in his head.

Nine times out of ten, Skulker would attack him on the way home, and Johnny would sometimes swing past with Kitty. They were usually fine, aside from some stupid drag racing (I mean seriously, who races a _ghost_ on a _motorcycle._ You know you’re not going to win) and semi-minor property damage that Danny definitely did not condone, no sir.

(It was a complete coincidence that the man taking photos up peoples’ skirts had been found shaking in a dark alley.)

He’d have to plan around all of them if he wanted to get food, and the Lunch Lady. He really hoped he didn’t meet her. He’d pray, but he was pretty sure that even if God did exist, they certainly wouldn’t do him any favors. Lost in thought, he almost missed his mother’s reply.

“That’s very sweet of you, Danny. We can go later though; you should focus on your studies.” She reached out to ruffle his hair and he flinched. The temperature dropped by several degrees as he sat there, rigid. Jaz broke in, a slightly desperate edge to her voice.

“I can go later! I have plenty of spare time, so no need to worry about it.” She was covering for him. She _had_ been covering for him since she found out, and he had never been more grateful. Not to mention covering the shopping. His parents would forget their own heads if they weren’t attached.

Finishing up his cereal, he offered Jazz a tired half-smile. It clearly didn’t fool her, but she seemed a little less worried. So that was something.

His core stung as he headed out the door and off to school.

* * *

By the time he walked into the school he had managed to congeal the ectoplasm in his side enough to prevent it from leaking any more. He was also late, but that was expected. This time it was only by half an hour, so at least there was that.

Mr. Lancer frowned at him as he walked through the door but kept teaching. Danny half threw himself, half-collapsed into his desk next to Sam and Tucker and stared blankly at the ceiling. Tucker tried to poke him in the side and got his hand swatted away.

“Dude! Chill, I’m just trying to check you out. Get it? Chill? Because–“

“Thank you, Tucker.” Sam broke in. “One more word and I’m changing the menu again.”

It was clearly an empty threat, but all three of them shuddered.

“Yeah, for my sanity can you please not?” Danny frowned. The smell of rotting meat lingered for months. “Also, of course you’re checking me out.” He closed his eyes and waved a hand at himself in fake cockiness. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

“Statistically speaking, everyone.” Sam swatted Tucker’s beanie again and he yelped. “What? We all know I’m right.” Danny chuckled roughly, then yawned. Laying his head down on the cool desk, he began to doze off as Mr. Lancer spoke in the background.

The bell jolted Danny awake, and he was moving for the door almost instantly.

_C’mon, c’mon, just a little more–_

“Oi Fenton!”

_And busted._ Danny glanced back, hunching over slightly.

“Something you need Dash?”

“Yeah, dweeb.” He held up a test with a C+ on it. “You see this?”

“Oh wow, congratulations.” _Please stop talking. Please stop–_ “I didn’t know you could read.” _Fuck._

Dash’s face turned red and he seemed to almost grow in size. Then again, maybe that was the years of Dash beating the hell out of him. Danny closed his eyes, waiting for the hit.

_Don’t fight back. Don’t, it’ll just get worse and you could actually hurt him. He’s just a kid, he can’t actually hurt you._ This was a different kind of fear than with Skulker, with his parents, with Vlad. This was a helpless kind of fear, the one that eats at your heart and pulls the stepstool out from under you when you’re reaching for the top shelf and suddenly you’re dangling there in midair with no support and you’re falling and you don’t ever hit the ground.

There was a nasty crunch as Dash body-checked Danny into one of the lockers. Danny slid to the ground and sat there for a second, pressing his elbow tight to his side until he could regain control. He hoped Dash hadn’t noticed the noise or the brief acidic green vapor around him.

“Whatever, Fentina.” Dash sneered and walked away.

“Man, dude has some issues.” Danny levered himself to his feet and picked up his bag. “I mean, Sam kicks at least ten times more ass than he does, so.” He grunted at the weight of the backpack pulling on the cuts. “Not sure what his problem is there. Hell, _Paulina_ can kick more ass than he does.” Cheerleaders were tough as nails, and he honestly kind of hoped Dash figured that out the hard way.

He snickered quietly at the thought of Dash getting dragged out into a cheer-squad fight ring. _I’d pay actual money to see that._ Speaking of money, Jazz gave him the cash she got from his mom this and told him to get a few more snacks this time, clearly worried. He was almost touched, until she tugged on his hair and completely ruined the moment. She clearly felt guilty about leaving him to do the shopping even after she had promised, but he didn’t mind. She had a future, and he wanted her to be there to see it.

He started making a mental shopping list as he walked into chemistry, where he was _still_ banned from using the glassware.

At least he had time to sleep while the rest of the class worked. Sam and Tucker weren’t in class with him, and most of the other kids either hated him or wanted nothing to do with him (except for Wes, who wanted a little too much to do with him, thank you). He usually woke up long enough to copy the data, keep a few pieces of glassware from breaking via stealthy telekinesis, and get hurt by something or other.

Today he was dozing, half in and half out of the realm of consciousness. The world had a hazy tinge to it, like everything had been moved slightly to the left and a step closer to okay. He didn’t technically have to breathe much, but the repetitive motion could be soothing. The rush of cool air in and out of his throat grounded him, and for a little while he was calm.

Until he wasn’t.

The smooth burn of ice coiled up his throat and spilled out of his mouth. Something was near. Something was threatening his town, _his_ people. And he didn’t like it. His core hummed in irritation, metaphorical teeth set on edge.

Immediately more awake, he made a half-assed excuse to his teacher, already halfway into the hall. He could hear her token protest as he slid behind a wall to shift.

“Going ghost.” _God, he was too tired for this. One day. That’s all he wanted, just one. Fucking. Day._

The sting on his side lessened as the rest of his body converted to ectoplasm and he floated upward. He took a second to settle and keep himself from floating away before moving towards his second fight in the past three hours.

* * *

“Geez man, at least buy me dinner first. What would your girlfriend say?” Danny quipped. He was currently stuck in one of Skulker’s specially reinforced ecto-nets. The arcs of electricity came a little too close for comfort and it was starting to make his core vibrate anxiously. Skulker seemed to sense his unease, tightening the net even more.

_Note to self: After we beat Skulker, hit Technus. Hard._

“Silence, whelp.” Skulker brought a hand up, sending a sharp, mildly painful shock down Danny’s spine. His core audibly creaked, starting to pulse and glow. Then as soon as the pain came it left. He clenched his fists to hide how badly his hands shook and put on his best ‘unconcerned bastard’ face.

“Is that the best you got?” Danny sneered, his canine teeth visibly sharpening. “C’mon, you’re usually more creative than this.” There was an uncharacteristic beat of silence.

“As you wish.” Skulker snapped and the net vanished. Just as quickly, a red target appeared on Danny’s side. “The hunt is more fun than the kill.”

_Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck godamnit someday I am going to learn to watch my FUCKING MOUTH Shit Sh–_

He narrowly dodged a burning green laser. It dug through Ms. Albertbeer’s lawn and he grimaced, automatically feeling the sharp pang of guilt at more (undeserved) property destruction.

He shot a few lasers back, detonating one of the weird missiles in his face with a burst of hot air. Burning acidic ectoplasm followed and he felt his skin start to sting and crawl. In exchange, he froze Skulker’s weird flame-hair thing. (Yeah, it may have been petty, but sealing the ectoplasm vent for a suit like that spelled…. He wasn’t sure what exactly it spelled, but Tucker made it sound not great.)

Skulker took the opportunity to slam a fist into his stomach, driving him through a wall and into the ground.

Danny pulled himself up, palm pressed bright green to the brick wall and claws dug a good inch in. Something bubbled in his chest. He half-smiled half-grimaced, fangs reflecting the newly relit flame of Skulker’s mane. “What, no more comments about ‘pathetic whelp?’ Come on dude, I know I’m good, but you’ve got to give me something to work with here!” He was bluffing, hoping that if he triggered one of Skulker’s ridiculous monologues then he’d buy himself a bit of time to recover.

It didn’t work.

Skulker raised a hand and shot another rocket. Danny stumbled sideways, trying to dodge, the itch in his chest coming out as a wet cough. The rocket splattered on the ground, releasing a huge splat of sticky blue ectoplasm that trapped him where he stood.

“ _Rats.”_ Danny tried pulling one of his feet up. “Man, Jazz is going to kill me if I don’t get food.” He made a face and mumbled, “that is, if we don’t starve first.” Skulker was hovering above him, probably savoring his victory. Bastard. Danny glared up at him. “What, not going to finish the job? Hell, at least I’d get an actual nap, no thanks to you lot.”

There was a second of silence, then another. Skulker bared his metallic teeth.

“I think I’m going to savor my victory here, whelp.” Derision practically oozed off his voice. “After all, the hunt’s no fun when the prey is injured.” He flew off towards Danny’s home, most likely going to terrorize one of the less powerful ghosts.

“That’s never stopped you before, you jerk.” Danny drew in a rattling breath and took a step forward. A bolt of heat shot up his leg and he crumpled, catching himself on the wall. _“Shit.”_

His leg was broken.

 _Well, maybe not broken. Definitely fractured, at least._ He couldn’t afford to miss any more classes, and he still had to get food. An ectoplasm cast would sort of work, but it was like submerging your bones in jell-o. While it probably wouldn’t make the break worse, it certainly wouldn’t help. With a sigh, he held a hand over the fracture. A frosty shell bloomed within his leg, poking muscle and flesh out of the way, enclosing a cool ectoplasm core. It didn’t hurt (much), but it wasn’t necessarily pleasant.

Standing up, he tried placing a little bit of weight on his leg.

 _Eeh,_ he’d be limping, but it would have to do.

He coughed again, harder. Green speckled his hand and he sighed, spitting out _more_ green spots. Lungs weren’t really something he could heal manually but given an hour or two he’d be fine. Just had to hope he’d get that time.

* * *

He limped back into the building, passing the stoner kids hanging out near the bathrooms. One of them waved a manicured hand lazily, tossing him a muffin. He gave them a grateful nod.

Scarfing down the offered gift, he cleared his throat of any lingering ectoplasm before ducking through the doorway back into class. Settling himself at his desk he let out a tired groan and stared blankly at the ceiling. The leftover adrenaline was keeping him awake, but at this point he was a lost cause.

Closing his eyes, he spent the rest of class trying not to cough and/or fuck up the rest of his day any more than it already had been.

* * *

Kicking the front door closed with his uninjured leg, he declared, “I’m home!” Buzzing and bright lights told him his parents were still in the lab, and Jazz was probably still tutoring. _Thank god she stopped trying to teach Dash._ Watching him try to hit on her was nauseating.

Setting the six bags of groceries down, he glanced at the door to the lab. Seeing it closed, he turned the other three bags of groceries visible and tangible, setting them down on the table. Most of it was nonperishables, granola and stuff he could eat without having to cook and things to extend the time before he had to go grocery shopping again. Swinging the fridge door open, he started humming, ignoring the tickle in his throat.

The mini-meatloaves his dad had made a week ago started humming along. He smirked and started humming _Never Gonna Give You Up._ His sister usually went looking for a snack when she got home, and he couldn’t wait to hear her reaction.

He couldn’t risk using telekinesis for putting things on the higher shelves. Invisibility and tangibility were simple enough that he could skate by, but for some reason telekinesis set off the ghost sensors. His parents would be up here in milliseconds and he’d rather not have another battle right now, thank you.

The dried mushrooms he was trying to put away slipped out of his hand and smacked him in the face. He stood there for a second, blinking.

 _I think that’s enough._ His leg was really starting to ache. The perishables had been put away, and the stuff they really didn’t want contaminated had been moved to the part of the fridge that was isolated from the samples his parents kept in there.

Glancing between the stairs and the basement, he sighed. It was _almost_ worth getting torn apart, but almost wasn’t enough. He dragged his tired corpse (ha! Corpse!) up the stairs one step at a time and through the door. Dropping his backpack on the side of the desk, he reached into the wall and fished out one of his emergency go-gurt packs. They were technically yogurt that was _heavily_ contaminated with ectoplasm, enough to function as a sort of transfusion, but like, gogurt. You know?

Fishing around in his backpack he pulled out a sheet of paper. It was his physics homework. He squinted at it, trying to decide if he actually had enough energy. After a minute or two he groaned and picked up his pencil.

As bad of a student as he was, he genuinely enjoyed science and mathematics. He wasn’t necessarily good at it but he wasn’t bad either, and he enjoyed doing it.

Cold air slithered up his throat, distinctly less sharp than before. _Not a threat._

Raising a hand, he petted one of the little green blob-ghosts that had nestled itself on his shoulder. It hummed contentedly and smushed itself into his neck, offering some of its ectoplasm. He chuckled quietly. Tilting his head, he affectionately squished the little ghost back, offering some of his own ectoplasm in return. As both the stronger ghost and the owner of the territory he technically didn’t have to give them anything, but they were just so damn cute.

Both of their cores hummed contentedly, and he could feel his pulse slow, core and heart settling down from their earlier agitated state. The rest of the small ghosts explored his room, drifting about. Their childish curiosity floated in the air, joined by a kind of peaceful happiness. Danny took a deep breath and focused on his physics worksheet.

Two hours passed with Danny working quietly and his little companions sitting vigil. Jazz had knocked on his door and thanked him for going shopping and the other ghosts had stayed blessedly silent. Danny contemplated sending them a fruit basket or something.

_Ember has a thing for blue daisies, Johnny likes tulips, and Kitty likes orchids. Or maybe it was lilies…_ his eyes had grown heavy. The blob ghosts had accumulated on him, three napping on his shoulders, two in his lap, and one nestled in his hair. Another four had taken residence in the pocket of his hoodie. He yawned, and one of the more alert ones stuck half its ‘body’ in his mouth.

With an alarmed noise he spat it out as quickly as he could. The ghost swirled around midair, ectoplasm swirling around in confusion. He cupped it in his hands, careful not to disturb the ones on his shoulders.

Gently, he offered it a little tendril of more concentrated ectoplasm as an apology. It vibrated happily, and curled itself around his hands.

“I love you too.” Danny laughed softly. “But be more careful, okay? It’s enough of a risk having you guys here as is.” The little blob ghost pulsed happily before floating up to push out the ghost sleeping in his hair. The newly evicted blob chirped softly, seeming a little disgruntled, before hiding in one of the pockets of his pants.

A little while later the blob ghosts floated upward, shining softly with the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on Danny’s walls. Danny himself had drifted off to sleep.

The ghosts flashed quietly in warning when a stranger floated into the room. They were appeased when the intruder pushed a little wisp of peaceful intention towards them, resuming their hovering around the sleeping child.

The stranger placed a glowing lunch box on the desk, adjusting her gloves to make sure the food stayed sanitary. It was important to have a healthy meal after all, especially for growing children. It was unthinkable that a kid would be unable to be fed, she just wouldn’t stand for it, no sir. Especially not for such a sweet kid like him, even if they were technically enemies. Ghosts take care of their own, after all.

She drifted down through the floor and back through the portal. She would have to scold Skulker for not telling her sooner. But considering he ‘complained’ to her about the halfling being weaker than usual, she would consider being more lenient. Maybe.

The sun was rising over the horizon and while Danny was still exhausted and sleep deprived, the future seemed just a little bit brighter than it had yesterday. At least, it did until he saw the suspicious ghostly lunchbox sitting on his desk.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first actual published thing (aside from Wattpad, but we don't speak of that) and I would appreciate literally anything you have to say. Even if it's just "worms" or "clams rock." 
> 
> Also I told my friend there was a fandom known for dissecting their main character and they looked at me in utter disappointment because they K N O W my tendencies.


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